Saitoh Tsutomu Reporting for Night Duty
by Gumi Reloaded
Summary: A bokken armed wolf cub braves the the things that go bump in the night and has a very interesting discussion with a certain house guest. This occurs immediately after Adventures at Uwajimaya's and Afterwards and More Than a Mindful. Tokio and Tsutomu
1. Things That Make Noise in the Night

**Saitoh Tsutomu, Reporting for Night Duty!**

In which a bokken armed wolf cub braves the the things that go bump in the night and has a very interesting discussion with a certain house guest.

Chapter 1

**TSUTOMU**

(There it is again...)

Tsutomu's amber eyes narrowed in the darkness and being a product of his upbringing, he immediately reached for his sword.

The sword, actually a child sized bokken that his uncle Okita had given him for his last birthday was, hands down, his favorite possession in the world and he practiced with it faithfully, every single day.

(I wonder where he went?) While not a stranger to loss, at least not any more, he mourned the void that his uncle's absence had created, and despite knowing better than to try to even begin to understand the strange ways that adults thought, there were times that Tsutomu wondered if he'd done something wrong to cause the man to no longer want to come and have adventures. (I wonder why?)

He heard the noise again, froze and carefully listened. It seemed to be coming from the living room, which was good (There were no people sleeping there who could be hurt) and bad (Because my father hasn't responded to it yet). That thought gave him pause.

His father was many things, but a light sleeper was not one of them.

(Is he all right?) Tsutomu recalled that his father had been wounded, perhaps more badly than he'd let on. The was frightening, horribly so. Tsutomu swallowed nervously, the naturally over-reactive imagination of a child who had seen far too much loss and violence in his young life went into overdrive.

(I have to check and see what's happening) His father had strict rules about not wandering around the house in the middle of the night. His father had rules about everything. Still, something was wrong, his father wasn't responding, so as the eldest child in the household, it was his responsibility to investigate.

Frightened, clenching his bokken tighter than how Okita and his father had taught him to hold it, Tsutomu crept past his little brother and carefully, carefully, opened the door.

(There it is again) Whatever was making the strange sound, it was coming from the living room.

Trying to be as silent as his uncle was when they played hide and seek, Tsutomu crept down the hall, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor until he was at the entrance of the front room. The sound, a raspy, grating sound, was closer, louder.

Tsutomu swallowed, trying to get his fears under control and moved into the room, unconsciously shifting his hold on the bokken to a proper one and adjusting his stance to a defensive position that his missing uncle and father would have been proud of, had they only seen it.

(It's coming from the couch)

Tsutomu waited, blinking for his vision to get better, then slid forward towards the couch. There was something, someone large and lumpy on it. His heart skipped a beat and he raised the bokken into a position that would allow him to strike down as hard as he could. With the uncle and father he had, he knew exactly where to aim his blow.

(It that Tsuyoshi's duck blanket?)

Tsutomu took another step forward, bravely poking his head around the edge of the couch. There was a big foot sticking out from under the blanket, a very big foot attached to a very long leg which was attached to...

Tsutomu's eyes went wide.

(Otōsan)

The bokken, raised and in strike position slowly lowered.

What was his father doing here? On the couch? Clearly it was too small for him. Baffled, the seven-year-old took a tentative step towards the sleeping man, when the sound, what he now knew to be a soft snore, emanated from his father's slightly opened mouth.

Even in the dark, under a duck blanket, his head at a weird angle that even Tsutomu knew had to be uncomfortable, his father was a scary looking man. Not mean, not unkind (though he could be and once had been) but kind of scary looking.

And yet...

Curious, Tsutomu looked more closely. He'd never seen his father asleep before. Familiar features, that so many people said mirrored his own, were exposed, the profile of his father's sharp chin apparent. In sleep, the face of his father wasn't quite as stern as usual.

For several minutes, Tsutomu said nothing and didn't move a muscle. Instead, he watched his father sleep, watched and listened to the slight inhalations and exhalations. It was so strange, seeing his father like this.

(He looks tired...) Tsutomu realized. He'd never thought about his father being tired before. Being tired was for other people. His father was always working, always so busy, too busy really, especially now that Okita was gone. There was someone else who was also missing, but it hurt too much to think about her, so he didn't (or at least tried not to).

(I wonder what he dreams about?) Did his father, always so serious, dream? Tsutomu did; he often had nightmares. He wondered if his father ever had nightmares. This sort of thinking also hurt, so he put that away as well. He was, after all, his father's son.

After a moment, the threat to the family now identified, Tsutomu turned to leave. A part of him wanted to try and cover his father's foot with the edge of the duck blanket, but he didn't dare risk waking the man. Based on what his auntie said, his father wasn't a morning person, this being the kindest thing he'd ever heard her say about her brother, and technically he supposed it was morning, so perhaps a degree of caution was warranted. His father looked so tired, so he should let him sleep and keep the house safe instead.

Duty clear, Tsutomu quietly made it was out of the front room and back down the hall. It was so important to him that the house was secure, that everyone in the house was safe. Safety was no longer a given in the child's life and hadn't been since he was four.

(Father said that there are people in danger…) He glanced at the door where their house-guest was sleeping. (…that Takagi-san is in danger).

The boy slammed his eyes shut, hating even the idea of the pretty, kind woman being hurt. He knew she was kind because he had seen her actions (and his father had drummed into him that actions always…always, spoke louder than any words could) and because he could remember her being kind…to him and the rest of his family.

A happy memory danced through his mind, as if it was playing hide and seek. Takagi-san was holding him, singing softly. He could hear her heartbeat as he rested against her chest. It was cold in the house, but she was warm and soft and the blanket she'd sewn him was a good one, the prettiest shade of blue.

Takagi-san was cooking, though her clothing was so strange. She was a good cook and loved to make his favorite noodles. In his mind, he watched her smile, laugh.

He was kneeling beside her, Tsuyoshi was with him, so was another little boy as they worked together in a vegetable garden. There was an older boy there too, but he looked different, not like a brother would. The boy was nice. The boy had been his friend.

There were other memories, though he didn't understand how they could be in his head. He could see Takagi-san standing by a door, beside his tall father. In this memory, which was less fleeting and firmer than the rest, his father wore a sword on his side and told Takagi-san that he'd return. In reply she smiled and said that she would be waiting. His father nodded, turned and walked away, never looking back.

Takagi-san closed the door and then leaned against it, closing her eyes, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she began to silently weep.

"Don't cry, Takagi-san…." Tsutomu whispered raggedly, caught in the tide of memory, his voice cracking. "Don't cry mother." He'd been there to protect her, whenever then was, he was sure of it. (I protected her then…I will protect her now) It was a man's duty, after all.

Determined to keep his watch, Tsutomu sat down by the door to the room where the woman who was both his father's friend from work and his mother from memory was hopefully sleeping.

**TOKIO**

Yes, she was sure of it. There was a noise. Even though it was a quiet sound it caught her attention and she was now distracted away from her mind-full of musings. The attorney was definitely quite awake.

Back in Meiji 1, when Hajime was home, she slept like the proverbial log. But if he was away at night and she was the one in charge of family safety, even the slightest sound had her on alert. It was strange because the Major was home tonight, albeit sleeping. It could be that she knew that nothing short of an apocalypse would wake him tonight. She must have reverted to 'the boys and I are home alone' instincts she'd honed a couple of centuries ago.

It almost sounded like bare feet sliding across the wooden floor (just like in their Meiji-era dojo), moving past her bedroom door. It definitely came from down the hallway where the boys were supposed to be sleeping soundly. Had the noise come from the other direction, she may have felt more concern than curiosity, as she did now. In the other direction was the living room, kitchen and door to the garage. It could not be an intruder from outside the house. The Major's sophisticated alarm system would have had the whole household out of bed and in an offensive mode.

Tokio waited for a few more minutes, straining her ears, almost holding her breath so as not to miss even a whisper of a sound. There it was again, the same muffled sliding she'd heard before.

"Don't cry, Takagi-san…."

Was that Tsutomu's voice? It was so soft but still understandable. Did he sleep walk in this era? He'd suffered so much emotional trauma for someone so young, having lost his mother to a vicious act and his father, temporarily, to the bottle.

Her heart clenched with sorrow.

"Don't cry mother." '

Oh, merciful heavens! That was Tsutomu! Any mother would recognize the sound of her own child's voice.

She carefully got out of bed, being as quiet as possible, and padded over to the bedroom door, her feet clad in Hajime's wool socks with the red toes.

She cracked the door slightly so she cold peek out. Her voice was barely audible, but she knew he would hear her. He was, after all, the wolf's oldest cub.

"Tsutomu-kun. is that you?"

Of course she knew it was. But she was still going to ask, and ask quietly because there was no way she wanted the Major up and off that couch until he got all the sleep he needed, not that it would ever happen. She really couldn't remember a time when he got all the rest that she thought he should have.

**TSUTOMU**

"Yes, Takagi-san."

Jumping to his feet, lest she wonder if he took guard duty seriously, the seven year old bowed and then looked up at the visage of the woman...his father's friend...his missing mother...peeking at him through a sliver in the door. His memories swam again, and he blinked, trying to force them into focus.

"I heard a sound this evening, coming from the living room and had to investigate." Whispering quietly, he motioned with his bokken towards the front room. "My father was making the noise. He's asleep on the couch. Under a blanket. With ducks."

He looked at her soberly, sure that she would understand the exceptional magnitude of the situation. "I think that father is very tired and...and...I'm worried that his leg might be worse than he's letting on. Do you think he's all right?"

Starting up at her face, a face that was so new and so familiar he couldn't help but add, "Are you all right?"

**TOKIO**

Tokio opened the door all the way so they could see each other better, and then returned his bow. He was such a serious young man. She smiled inwardly when she noticed the bokken in his hand. Yes, this was truly Hajime's child.

Ah, so the Major still snored. She wondered why she hadn't heard him, but she had been rather preoccupied with her thoughts. When Hajime did that when they were married, all she needed to do was to very, very gently nudge him so he would roll on his side. That solved the problem every time.

She wanted to thank Tsutomu for being so concerned with household safety that he would investigate a noise he heard. However, at his young age he needed to leave that sort of thing to the adults in the house. But this evening the family's head of security was dead to the world, having even his normal energy reserve totally drained like a dead battery.

"Your father has had a couple of very busy days. Because of that he is more tired than normal. I am sure that you are worried about his leg, but I am confident that it will be fine."

She was sure that it would be fine. It might take a while to heal, but Tsutomu really didn't need to be fretting and worrying about the Major's injuries.

An adult does not reveal anything personal to a child, especially in this case, but she wanted the boy (her son) to have some reassurance about what happened.

"I noticed your father had fallen asleep on the couch, and I didn't want him to get cold. The duck blanket was on the end of the couch and I used it to cover him since I don't know where you keep your extra blankets."

"Are you all right?"

She couldn't help the warm feeling spreading in her chest. This child, as well as Tsuyoshi and Tatsuo, was more precious than words could express.

"Yes, Tsutomu-kun, I am quite fine. I appreciate your concern and you asking how I am"

"You must be tired yourself. Would you like me to walk you to your room?"


	2. A Child Burdened Too Much

**Saitoh Tsutomu Reporting for Night Duty**

**Chapter 2 A Child Burdened Too Much**

**TSUTOMU**

Tsutomu stared up at the first guest that his father had allowed into their house in years. He was struggling to make sense of what his eyes were taking in as they stood looking at each other in the dark and the super-imposed images of her face and form that randomly appeared and vanished from his memory like ghosts.

He knew about ghosts. He knew about a lot of things and despite being a kid, he knew when a grown up was trying to placate him.

"I don't know if my father will be all right or not, Takagi-san." Somehow, he knew when he grew up, he'd be much taller than she was but for now, he had to look up at her, his expression hard but not unkind.

"Tonight, at the grocery market he nearly bought some sort of alcohol." Not wanting to be disloyal to his father, Tsutomu dropped his voice to the lowest whisper he could manage. He didn't want to be a blabbermouth like his little brother, but this was an emergency and she was the only grown-up he could think of that might be willing to help. "My auntie says that he's an alcoholic and while I don't entirely understand what that means, I do know what happens when he drinks."

He wanted to drop his eyes for a moment because like so many other memories, recalling what his father had become after his mother was killed hurt to think about. The fear of it happening again emboldened him and gave him the courage to not look away.

"Something is wrong, Takagi-san." Pursing his thin mouth into a firm line, he forced himself to risk sharing so much with a stranger, who somehow wasn't, to try and help his father. "He said that you are in danger and that he would protect you, keep you safe."

And then his voice, the high clear treble of a child, wavered slightly. "If he starts to drink again, he won't be able to protect you." Much to his embarrassment he felt his lower lip quiver. Talking like a grownup about the things grownups talked about was hard. "He won't be able to protect himself or us."

Tsutomu did look away then. He worried he might start to cry if he kept looking into the kind woman's grey eyes. His father hated it when people fussed. "My auntie hates my father and my uncle, his name is Okita, has gone away and might be dead. My father said that he likes you and that you are his friend."

"Will you please help me, Takagi-san?" Tsutomu bowed deeply, hoping that she'd chosen rightly in sharing things of such a personal nature.

**TOKIO**

Hajime was the one who was critically in need of sleep tonight. She had no desire to wake him. A prolonged verbal exchange in the hallway would do exactly that. There was only so much whispering they could get away with tonight. She was surprised that her normally light-sleeper husband wasn't up already. It was a testament to the state of the Major's exhaustion. In the morning she would tell him what he needed to know about the talk she was about to have with their son. The irony of needing to have a very difficult discussion with her husband, and now her son, was not lost on the attorney.

Tokio looked at the boy standing before her in the dark hallway. It broke her heart to see him in this state of mind. He was too young to feel so burdened by life. He was so worried about his father, Okita-san, about her and her safety and the prospect that his father would not be able to protect any of them if he started drinking again. Although the light was too dim to get a clear view of his face, she could detect a waver in his voice.

There was another in the house, Tsuyoshi, who not only needed to sleep, but most definitely should not be a party to what she needed to say to Tsutomu. Tsuyoshi shouldn't hear any of what was to come. He was much too young to shoulder these burdens. Tsutomu was much too young for this. He had been thrust into a situation through no fault of his own. He was a victim of the behavior of adults, the one who murdered his mother, a father deep in grief, and an aunt who could never act any better than the back-biter she was, not here, not back in Meiji 1, either.

The attorney returned the boy's deep bow. "Tsutomu-kun, I will do my best to answer your questions, but we risk waking both your father and brother if we continue talking here in the hall. Could we speak in the guest room instead?"

Tsutomu nodded in response and walked toward her, his bokken in hand. That little wooden sword had to be a security blanket of sorts to the young boy. Tokio gently rest a hand on his shoulder, guiding him into the guest room, motioning for him to take a seat on the bed. which he did, laying his bokken beside him on the mattress. She hadn't even climbed under the covers tonight; she'd just laid on top of the spread, her mind jumping around like a frog leaping from one lily pad to another.

After she quietly closed the bedroom door she joined him on the edge of the bed, sitting beside him, but leaving a little room. She did not want to invade his space. He would be the one to choose to sit closer.

"_I don't know if my father will be all right or not, Takagi-san. Tonight, at the grocery market he nearly bought some sort of alcohol."_

Tokio felt like she was stabbed in the heart. "Tsutomu-kun, I need to apologize to you and to your father. I was the one who thoughtlessly put cooking sake on the shopping list. I wasn't thinking. Your father is working so hard to stay away from alcohol, any kind of it. I won't ask him to buy it for me ever again." She still couldn't believe she had put Hajime in that position.

"Your father was very strong tonight. You need to be proud of him. He left the cooking sake on the shelf."

"_My auntie says that he's an alcoholic and while I don't entirely understand what that means, I do know what happens when he drinks."_

"Your auntie is correct," Tokio began. Her son should not have to deal with these issues. "Your father is an alcoholic." If Katsu-san had taken care of the Major's sons, her nephews, and not tried to explain their father's illness to them, she was more derelict in her duty to family than she had been back in Meiji 1, and she was no shining star back then in Tokio's opinion.

How should she explain this to someone so young? "Do you know what it means to be sick, to feel sick?" He nodded. She knew he did and she was trying to give him a simple explanation of a very complicated problem, if that were even possible.

"When a person is an alcoholic, " Tokio continued, "he has a type of sickness, a sickness that makes him want to drink alcohol. He cannot stop wanting to have a drink. Not being able to stop drinking is part of the sickness. This does not make him a bad person." The last part was the most important thing about Hajime that Tsutomu needed to know.

Her son's fear of what his father did when he drank was a source of great anxiety for the child. "Being an alcoholic means that a person wants to drink alcohol even though he knows it is bad for him and may make him do things that he will be sorry for later."

"It is very, very important for you to understand that you did not cause your father to start drinking." No, it was the way he was compelled to deal with your mother's violent death because he did not protect her. The attorney was sure of that.

"His problem with alcohol is not your fault and you cannot do anything to stop him from drinking it. He needs to stop on his own and it is a very, very hard thing to do." Children were so prone to blaming themselves for things they were not old enough to understand.

"_He said that you are in danger and that he would protect you, keep you safe. If he starts to drink again, he won't be able to protect you. He won't be able to protect himself or us."_

Her son was in anguish. Tokio could hear it in his voice. She would do what she could to comfort him. but she would not lie to him. She never did before and she had no intention of starting now.

"Yes, I am in danger, just as are many other people who live here in New Meiji." She only had to think back to the Sunshine Cafe incident. There was no way to soften the truth. Children in this era were exposed to more than they deserved to be.

"Even though these times are dangerous, I have complete faith in your father's ability to protect all of us. I have know him for a very long time and I believe in him."

_"My auntie hates my father and my uncle, his name is Okita, has gone away and might be dead. My father said that he likes you and that you are his friend. Will you please help me, Takagi-san?" _

Her heart ached for her son in response to his earnest plea. She wanted to wrap him in a warm embrace. If only she were his mother in this era. "I am his friend, Tsutomu-kun, and I am yours, also. I will always do my best to protect you and your brother," she paused a moment, "and your father, too."

Tokio already had protected Hajime, that day at the Sunshine Cafe. The child had no need to know that their father may have died that day if she had not been there. That was the day that her memories began to return, most likely due to the trauma of that day. It was the day she had seen a light blue haori with white triangles in one of the flashbacks.

She could not help but think that for Tsutomu to share these personal things with her had to be as difficult for him as it was for Hajime to ask for help. He was his father's son after all.

**TSUTOMU**

Tsutomu listened without interrupting, though his breath did catch, hitching in his throat when Takagi-san explained why his father had been tempted to buy alcohol and then revealed to him that the struggles that he'd seen turn a parent he'd once loved and trusted without hesitation become someone else were not because of something he'd done, but because he was sick and had a disease.

"I had the flu last fall," he replied when the woman asked him if he'd been sick before. "I barfed all over the back seat of the car."

At the time, he'd been worried that his father would be angry about the mess, but the exact opposite had occurred. His father had, without a word of censure, carried him to the bathroom, helped him clean up and then had put him to bed, assuring him that the illness would pass.

Of course, it had (though both Tsuyoshi and his father had also gotten the flu) but the memory of his father sitting patiently by his bed through the night in case he threw up again, was a fixed point in his mind.

Her revelations about his father's sickness made sense, much more than what his auntie had told him. Despite everything, he knew his father was a good man and loved him.

_"__I am his friend, Tsutom-kun, and I am yours, also. I will always do my best to protect you and your brother,"_ her eyes were fixed on his, and even in the dark he could recall that they were grey, just like the sky right before it rained. _"and your father, too."_

That did it. To his embarrassment, and despite his best efforts to not fuss, the tears came. Not wanting her to know, to say nothing of his father, he slapped his hand over his mouth, trying not to make a sound. It didn't work, not entirely, anyway.

"Is…is my father ever going to get better?" He hiccupped. Whispering wasn't easy when there were tears. "I don't want him to be sick…or sad." Confessing these things, somehow was helping a little. The sense of being squished, of his chest being stomped on by a bully became almost bearable. Unbidden, he scooted closer to where the woman was sitting, letting his bokken slide off the bed, no longer needed, to the carpeted floor.

"I'm glad that you are my friend," He had missed this. Missed her somehow. "and that you will help watch over me, Tsuyoshi and Father." Another weight, another secret unspoken fear was answered, a weight lifted. He wasn't alone in this fight.

Greatly daring, he scooted closer, until he was able to awkwardly lean against her. She was soft and warm and didn't chide him for acting like a baby. "Takagi-san, I have another question to ask you, but am not sure how to do it."

**TOKIO**

The attorney smiled to herself. There was no doubt that Tsutomu fully understood what it meant to be sick. Poor Hajime. Back when they were a family she had been the one to clean up any illnesses of, as the boy put it, the barfing kind. Mothers usually did in those days. She hoped that his understanding of illness would expand to cover the journey of sobriety that lay before his father.

There was no mistaking the muffled sob and hiccup that came from the child sitting beside her in the dark room. She could tell that this wonderful, special boy of hers, of theirs, was crying, trying to be as quiet about it as he could.

"_Is…is my father ever going to get better? I don't want him to be sick…or sad."_

"I don't want him to be sick or sad, either, Tsutomu-kun," Tokio replied softly, "just as I want you and Tsuyoshi-chan to feel well and happy." It continued to sting her heart that this precious youngster was saddled with such a burden at his tender age.

Tokio knew there was no guarantee that a recovering alcoholic would remain sober for the remainder of their life. "I have faith in your father; he is a strong man who is committed to do the best he can for his family. He has determination and resolve, but most important he has us to support him." The attorney was sure that Hajime's journey would not be easy, especially with thoughtless people, like her, who could put him in a position where he would be confronted by the devil in the bottle.

"_I'm glad that you are my friend, and that you will help watch over me, Tsuyoshi and Father."_

Tsutomu's confession had Tokio on the verge of tears. She couldn't help it. "It is something that I am honored to do, Tsumomu," words echoing in her mind, 'with my life son', 'with my life'. Would he notice that she had dropped the honorific that she should have used.

The mattress moved, the bokken fell on the floor just before she felt the boy, her son from so long ago, slowly inching towards her until he was leaning against her. Her arm slipped around his shoulders automatically, pulling him even closer to her side. She turned to him and planted a soft kiss on top of his head, something she knew that she had missed doing for a very long time. Tokio squeezed her eyes closed trying to stem the trail of tears making their way down her cheeks. She couldn't believe how many tears had been shed tonight with Hajime and now their son. But it was no wonder she was emotional. How often does a woman find her long lost family? That is exactly what happened to her less than twenty-four hours before.

"_Takagi-san, I have another question to ask you, but am not sure how to do it."_

"Just ask as directly as you can," Tokio responded, sniffling, her arm still around Tsutomu's shoulders giving him a little squeeze. "That is what your father would do," she added without realizing it. The attorney had a suspicion about what he wanted to ask. She'd heard the slip he almost made when he addressed her tonight before he went to bed.


	3. Discoveries

Saitoh Tsutomu Reporting for Night Duty

Chapter 3

**TSUTOMU**

Tsutomu thought for a moment. This was hard.

"I had a mother once," he said quietly, "a long time ago. She's dead. Some bad men came to our house and…" He stopped talking. While the memory of what his mother looked like was beginning to fade in his mind, the images from the night he'd lost her were stuck in his brain, as if hey had been burned there.

"They killed my mother," Tsutomu's voice became hard and flat. "I heard them do it."

Takagi-san pulled him closer, her arms came around him like she was trying to take the memories of his mother screaming and then the awful silence away. Tsutomu looked up at the pretty lady that his father liked. That he liked.

The woman held him for a moment. It was nice to be held. Sometimes, but not often, his father would give him a hug.

He felt something hot and wet platter on his cheek. His eyes widened when he realized what was happening. She was crying.

This wouldn't do. He'd made Takagi-san cry. Guilt filled him.

He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I'm sorry I made you sad", Tsutomu said as he frowned and reached up, trying to wipe at the tears. He didn't like it when people cried.

"You…you shouldn't fuss, Takagi-san," he whispered, his own voice none too steady. "It's unbecoming." That's what his father always told him and it was what he tried hard to follow.

The woman sniffled a little. He did too.

"Anyway, she's dead. I can't really remember what she looks like any more and Tsuyoshi doesn't remember her at all."

And now for the part that was the hardest part to say. It was, in a way, so scary and confusing and in another way, so wonderful. It was a strange feeling and Tsutomu wondered if these sorts of feelings were the type that grownups had to deal with.

"But…but I remember you, Takagi-san," Tsutomu looked up at the woman again, confusion clear on his still childish features. It was dark in the room and she was hard to see but her arms around him were strong and soft at the same time. His father trusted this woman or she wouldn't be let in the house.

"You are…you were my mother. I can remember you taking care of me, of Tsuyoshi and…another brother but I can't remember what his name was. We wore funny clothes. We lived in a different house. You loved me. So much."

He knew that this must sound crazy. "I promise I'm not making this up, Takagi-san. I don't lie. Not ever."

Dishonesty was one thing that would make his father very angry. Tsutomu thought about the kids at school who bullied other children and then lied about it. He didn't blame his father one bit for getting mad at people who didn't tell the truth.

"How can I have a mother, even if she's dead and still have a mother, you, who's still alive? I don't understand how I can have two mothers. It's confusing."

**TOKIO**

Tokio's heart bled for the son she'd given birth to all those years ago as the child related the tragic events of his young life. She pulled him even closer as tears welled from her eyes.

"_I'm sorry I made you sad. You…you shouldn't fuss, Takagi-san, it's unbecoming_."

It touched her deeply when the boy reached up to wipe away her tears. It reminded her of what Hajime did for her last night. Like father, like son.

But the part about her not fussing because it was unbecoming, left her with an uncomfortable feeling. In Tokio's mind telling someone not to fuss because it was unbecoming was something that was more appropriate to say to an adult, than to a young child trying to deal with the aching sadness in his heart due to the loss of his mother. In her opinion telling that to the boy was almost tantamount to telling him that feeling sad was a bad thing. (On the other hand, telling that same thing to a child who was throwing a temper tantrum was quite another matter and very appropriate in that case.)

She knew exactly where Tsutomu had heard those words. She also knew the Major was doing his very best to cope with his family and work situation. What she did not know was the circumstance in which that statement was made, and until she had that knowledge, it was not fair to judge its use.

"Tsutomu, you did not make me sad." Tokio's voice wavered. "Hearing about what happened to your mother, and knowing that you were there to hear it, is what made me feel very sad." She paused to gain her composure before adding, "It is normal to feel sad when something very bad happens to you or the ones you love." Losing his mother was bad enough, but him being there as a witness was beyond horrific.

In addition, part of the sorrow Tokio felt at the moment was because she suspected that this poor child of theirs had no one to let him know that his feelings were well warranted and valid. Katsu certainly wouldn't be capable of doing anything of the sort. Instead of giving her nephew comfort and the time to grieve, she most likely berated the child for the way he felt. The Major was mired in his own grief at that point. It was too late to save Tsutomu from what life already dealt him, but it was not too late to help the boy heal. That was exactly what the attorney hoped to do for the rest of her life in this era, no matter how long or short that might be.

Tokio was coming to the realization that even after three years, Tsutomu was still grieving and may not have been able to express his emotions related to this traumatic event.

"It is okay to feel sad, Tsutomu," she reconfirmed to the boy, giving his shoulders a little squeeze before continuing. "Even grown-ups feel sad at times." Like father, like son. All she could do was think of Hajime and what his feelings about what happened to Yaso caused him to do. "It is said that, if you shed enough tears, it helps to wash some of the sadness away."

Tokio knew letting your tears flow would never erase all of those emotions, but with time and grieving a degree of healing would occur, although there would still be only a thin layer of protection over the wound in the person's heart which could be easily pierced in certain circumstances.

"_Anyway, she's dead. I can't really remember what she looks like any more and Tsuyoshi doesn't remember her at all."_

Oh. Yaso-san, Tokio thought. This will not do to have your birth children forget your face. You loved them, you gave your life to save them... so I could find them again. That gave the attorney pause. Had their birth mother from this era touched the family even in death, finding a way to provide for her children by leading Tokio to them? The attorney did not know and refused to speculate. .

"Tsutomu, I found a photo of your mother that was stored away. If you like, we can put it somewhere in your room. That way Tsuyoshi can see it, too."

She was not sure what the Major would think about that, but if it helped his son, he should go along with it. The attorney would do her best to persuaded him if necessary. Tokio realized that she was only a guest in this house and although married to Hajime centuries ago, the status of their relationship in this era was uncertain.

"Someday you may feel like telling Tsuyoshi some happy memories that you have of your mother. That way both of you will remember her." Tokio could not fathom that the boys would eventually forget Yaso. She would do all she could to prevent that from happening, including asking Tsutomu to tell her something fun that he and Yaso did together. However, now was not the time or place for that.

"_You are…you were my mother. I can remember you taking care of me, of Tsuyoshi and…another brother but I can't remember what his name was. We wore funny clothes. We lived in a different house. You loved me. So much. I promise I'm not making this up, Takagi-san. I don't lie. Not ever."_

Confusion was written all over the child's face. She could relate to that. She'd felt the same way mere days ago.

"You are right Tsutomu."

Somehow this boy of theirs from Meiji 1 knew. But she was at a loss as to how to explain to him what was happening, what had happened to cause the memories to surface that led to the realization of what their life-connection had been in the past.

"I know that you would never lie, Tsutomu. You were not raised to do that, not then and not now."

"I also know you are not making this up. I realized that you remembered me when you almost called me mother when you were heading to bed last night."

Tokio then leaned down as if she were sharing a secret just between the two of them, "I loved you very much then, and I love you so very much now, too," just as much if not more than I did then, she added in her mind.

Straightening up, she smiled at him and used her thumb to clear away the streaks of tears on Tsutomu's cheeks.

"_How can I have a mother, even if she's dead and still have a mother, you, who's still alive? I don't understand how I can have two mothers. It's confusing."_

The irony of having a difficult discussion now with her Meiji 1 era son, and then having another very difficult conversation in the morning with her Meiji 1 era husband was not lost on the attorney. Why did 'like father, like son' keep popping into her mind.

"What has happened is very confusing for me, too," Toki confessed. "Many, many years ago I had three little boys who were born to me who grew into fine men. This was over 200 years ago, a life time ago." (She wasn't sure he would understand that.) "All of you grew up, led wonderful lives and then, as all people do, we died in that time and place." The attorney paused giving her words time to sink in, giving him time to process what she said, as much as he could at his age. There were times when young children just took things at face value, not needing any protracted explanation. She hoped this was one of them.

"I do not know how it happened but I, too, just as you did, started to have memories of living in a different time and place with your father as my husband and you, Tsuyoshi, and Tatsuo as my children," she revealed before adding, "your other brother's name was Tatsuo." Tokio had no idea what happened to Tatsuo in this era, or if she would ever know.

"For some very wonderful reason, we are living now, and we remember who we were and what we meant to each other all those many years ago."

"Your memory is correct, Tsutomu. Two hundred years ago when we were together as a family we did live in a different house and we wore different clothes. We lived in the kind of house and wore the kind of clothes that were common to everyone who lived at that time in history." There was a lot more to say about that era, but she would wait.

"If you wish, we can look up pictures of the houses of that time and the clothes that people wore." The attorney hoped that she would be around long enough to follow through with what she suggested to him.

Tokio still hadn't answered what she considered to be the child's most urgent question.

"Yaso-san was the mother who gave birth to you in this time and place. I was the mother who gave birth to you and your brothers almost two hundred years ago. I cannot tell you how that happened because I do not understand it myself, but I know these things are true."

"You must always remember that Yaso-san was your mother in this life." Tokio would try to explain to him when he was older, should she still be around, what Yaso had done for him, if he didn't already know.

"You must also know that I was your mother once, too, and I am here now to be your mother again," she was tempted to add the words, 'if you want me to', giving him a choice, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. "I still love you and Tsuyoshi so much, and I will do my very best to help take care of you." She was sure that the Major would not deny her contact with the boys they'd had together so many years ago, even if the relationship the two of them shared so long ago did not continue in this time and place.

Tsutomu was being very quiet and hadn't interrupted her. She looked down to see if he was still awake. In the dim light she could see his eyes still open, looking straight ahead, taking in what she was telling him. She gave him another kiss on the top of his head, her arm still wrapped warmly around his shoulders, waiting for him to speak.


	4. Conclusions

**Saitoh Tsutomu Reporting for Night Duty**

Chapter 4 Conclusions

**TSUTOMU**

Tsutomu wasn't sure quite what to say, and so in the fine spirit of Saitoh men over the centuries, he frowned, said nothing and tried to think things through.

There was so much to think about, so many new ideas. It almost made his head hurt (or perhaps the headache was from crying like a baby).

Tsutomu glanced up at his father's friend who was so much more. She is my mother! Tsuyoshi's mother. It was a wonderful idea, comforting, even if he didn't really understand how and why it had happened. He made a note to let Tsuyoshi know that he also had two mothers the very next day. This was, of course, the sort of secret that two brothers were supposed to share.

After a while he decided that he'd done enough thinking and had some more questions. "It's okay if we don't know why I have two mothers. I don't mind. I'm just glad you found us. Found Father. I'm glad he likes you. You make him happy. You make us happy."

Tstutomu smiled up at the woman. "That's all that really matters, right?"

He thought back over all the things that Takagi-san his mother had explained to him. Most of the things she talked about made sense.

Some of the things she talked about didn't. They would have to wait until morning, he supposed.

One he struggled with.

"I don't know about the crying part though. There are kids at school who are always crying about something. Some of them even throw tantrums," Tsutomu grimaced at the unpleasant memory of watching a boy his own age kicking and screaming on the floor. He couldn't imagine acting so shamefully. He also didn't want to imagine how his father would react to such a display. "Anyway, they're morons and I don't want to be that way. Not ever."

Tsutomu yawned. He was, despite his best efforts to be the man of the house and keep everyone safe while he father slept on the couch, getting tired.

"Crying is tricky, I'm learning that as I get older." Seven was a long time for a boy to be alive, after all. "My Auntie said that my father didn't care what happened to my mother, that the only thing he cared about was his job," he glanced up at the attorney, not quite sure how to phrase it, "my other mother, you know, the one who died." Tsutomu sighed raggedly and snuggled a little closer. "After she died, Okita, he's my uncle you know, took us to his house for a sleep-over for a few days."

Normally sleepovers at his uncle's house had been the best. The VERY best. They played games, silly ones, and watched moves and sometimes even had pizza AND sweets. The sleep-over after his mother had died had not been the best, though he knew that his uncle had tried to make it fun.

"I think that I heard him crying, at night, when I was supposed to be asleep. I think he cried, more than once so I knew that he was sad. I was only a little kid then, so I thought that it was the only way to show you were sad." Snuggled up against a lost mother who'd been found made talking about the next part a little easier.

"When we came back to the house, it had changed. Everything was gone, pretty much, my mother's artwork, the pretty blue tile floor in the kitchen, our family pictures, all of it. My father was so angry, even thought I know he tried not to be, but I never saw him, not once, cry. Not ever. So, when Auntie said that my father didn't care…"

Tsutomu looked down at the floor he could barely see, ashamed. "I believed her. I thought that because my father didn't cry that he didn't care."

He was glad that the attorney didn't try and tell him it was all right and it was okay to have thought such awful things about his father, who despite being a hard man and a stern one, was trying very hard and who loved him.

"Then, Okita went away. I missed him so much. It made me sad and then so mad! I said a very bad word and threw the sword he gave me for my birthday in the closet and didn't touch it for a whole week." For a seven-year-old, a week was an eternity of unhappiness. "It hurt for me to see it and to know that Okita was gone, probably dead, and I'd never see him again."

Lifting his head, he looked up at the dark-haired woman. "That's what happened to Father, didn't it?"

His mother, the new mother who wasn't really new at all, nodded, "Yes, that's what happened, Tsutomu." She was such a pretty lady, so kind and gentle.

"You don't have to cry then, to care about someone, to love them and miss them," almost shyly he added, his voice dropping to a little whisper, "Mother." The horrible tummy ache, one that he just couldn't make go away, began to lessen, lift. "My Auntie has it all wrong." This realization also helped and made many strange things make more sense. "I'm going to tell her so she and my Father can be friends."

Tsutomu yawned. He was so tired but didn't want to move.

"I'd…like…" He yawned again, "…to see pictures, you know, of when we were a family a long time ago? That sounds nice, even if we did wear silly clothing back then." A thought came to him. It was a good one.

"Do you think that we can get some new pictures, now that you're our mother?" Lids heavy, he reached out and found the woman's hand and held it tightly. "We can have those pictures and the one of my other mother together so that no one forgets that we're a family, a bigger one than I thought."

Sleep was taking him. He tried to blink, to stay awake and keep talking. A part of him whispered that he wanted to stay awake so that his mother, this mother who loved him and Tsuyoshi and his father, would continue to hold him in the dark and keep the darker things and thoughts that hunted children in the night at bay.

"Mother?" his voice was quiet, thick with pending slumber.

"Yes, Tsutomu?"

"I love you too."

**TOKIO**

Tokio acknowledged that there were other reasons for crying besides being sad. It seemed like it was a topic worth discussing, but not tonight.

"_It's okay if we don't know why I have two mothers. I don't mind. I'm just glad you found us. Found Father... You make him happy. You make us happy. That's all that really matters, right?" _

The attorney was pleased that Tsutomu accepted her explanation. She had no idea herself what transpired to put all of these events in motion. Whatever it was, she would be eternally grateful for this opportunity to relive at least part of the life she'd shared with Hajime and their boys so many years ago. She was sure he would not deny her spending time with Tsutomu and Tsuyoshi, even if he was still mourning Yaso, and had no desire to remarry.

She smiled back at the child sitting tucked into her side, lightly brushing a hand over his soft hair. "You are right," she affirmed for the boy, "that is all that matters, that we found each other and we make each other very happy. You, your brother, and your father, all three of you, make me feel so very happy." That was the honest truth of the matter.

_"My Auntie said that my father didn't care what happened to my mother, that the only thing he cared about was his job."_

Katsu's words were unbelievably cruel, especially when said to a seven-year-old. Tokio's eyes threatened to tear up again, over the anguish those words had to cause Tsutomu.

"_When we came back to the house, it had changed. Everything was gone, ... our family pictures, all of it. My father was so angry, even though I know he tried not to be, but I never saw him, not once, cry. Not ever. So, when Auntie said that my father didn't care…I believed her. I thought that because my father didn't cry that he didn't care." _

The boy's trauma ran deeper than Tokio had imagined. She knew that Katsu would not be helpful, but she had no idea the extent of the woman's hatred for her brother. The children stayed with their aunt for quite some time, and were subjected to Katsu's vicious opinions the whole time. No wonder Tsutomu was suffering so much.

Tokio had no desire to call Katsu out in front of Tsutomu as the manipulative lair that she was. For the woman to tell her young nephew that his father didn't care whether the boy's mother was dead was one of the biggest, most despicable, manipulative, cruel ploys the attorney had ever run across, and in her line of work she'd seen plenty. Trying to turn a then four-year-old against his father, who was grieving the loss of his wife, was unforgiveable in her way of thinking. To do this to a child, to try to poison a child against his own father was unconscionable.

Tokio refused to stoop to the woman's underhanded tactics by making any comments about what Katsu had said. There was no need to turn Tsutomu against his aunt, the woman was quite capable of doing that on her own. However, the attorney couldn't help but wonder why her former sister-in-law had such a severe, vile reaction to what happened to her brother in the aftermath of the family tragedy. There was a reason for everything even though a person may have to dig to find it. Tokio wondered if she would ever know why Katsu acted as she did.

"People express their sadness in different ways, Tsutomu." Her heart ached at the way her former husband's excessive grief manifested itself. It affected his boys. Neither he nor his sister was able to give them the emotional support they needed after the sudden, tragic loss of their mother.

"Even though they don't always cry on the outside, people can still be very, very sad on the inside. The sadness and hurt they feel can turn into anger. Your father was so angry when your mother was taken from him because he loved her very much and felt so bad about what happened."

It took Tokio a minute or so to figure out how to put what she said in terms that would help the child understand what she was trying to get at. It finally dawned on her that Hajime handled his grief by lashing out at others and at himself, just the way a wounded wolf might respond.

"It's sort of like when a creature gets hurt and someone tries to help it. It is in so much pain that all it can do is growl and bite at anyone who comes near it. "

The attorney wasn't sure she did the right thing to use that comparison. She hoped to put how Hajime reacted in terms a seven year old could better understand, a seven year old who had started yawning, a lot .

Tsutomu told her what happened with the wooden sword he received from Okita. Tokio was very pleased that the boy was able to connect what he had done with Okita's gift, and why he'd done it, to what his father had done with his mother's possessions. For someone his age the child displayed a great degree of understanding when he realized and could relate to the feelings that prompted his father's actions.

After he asked her, Tokio let the boy know that she would try to find some photographs from long ago. She knew there were some good ones taken in 1897 when Hajime was about 53 years old. She loved the one of him by himself. It was her favorite photo of him. There was also a nice one of their family taken on the same day. Tsutomu had to be around 21 years old then. In addition, the woman remembered another one taken later at the wedding of one of the boys.

"_Do you think that we can get some new pictures, now that you're our mother? We can have those pictures and the one of my other mother together so that no one forgets that we're a family, a bigger one than I thought." _

"Yes," Tokio responded, as his small hand grasped hers firmly. "We will have new pictures taken, and of course we will display them with the ones of your mother from this era. We never want to forget her, or how much she loved you, your brother and your father."

Tokio hoped the the Major would be ready for this. The attorney had mixed feelings about appearing in a photo with Hajime and the boys when her specific role in this family was uncertain. However, she would jump at the chance to take pictures with Tsutomu and Tsuyoshi. There was no question or doubt in her mind about that.

"_You don't have to cry then, to care about someone, to love them and miss them. My Auntie has it all wrong. I'm going to tell her so she and my Father can be friends." _

Tokio was so happy and relieved that her son had come to some conclusions which should help him better understand his father's behavior. The boy realized a person did not have to cry to show they cared about someone, just as his father did not cry over the death of the person he loved so dearly. Also, Tsutomu now knew that his Aunt Katsu was wrong about his father. This was good. It was progress on his path of healing. The best part was that Tsutomu had come to these truths on his own.

"It would be good if your father and your aunt could be friends again," Tokio responded sincerely. There was no need to tell the child that due to Katsu's personality what he hoped for was nearly impossible. Kastu might shed her outward hatred of her brother, as a snake shed its skin, but his aunt would still be the same on the inside just as a snake was still the same snake underneath.

"_Mother?"_ his voice was quiet, thick with pending slumber.

"Yes, Tsutomu?"

"_I love you too." _

Tokio's heart melted. Those were the sweetest four words she could ever hope to hear from this youngster.

Tsutomu was still yawning, his head nodding sleepily then jerking up as though to shake himself awake.

It was time for them to sleep.

"Let's get you to bed; morning comes very early," she whispered to him. It always had in the past, and the attorney was sure that it was the same in this era. Yesterday had been an early rise for she and the Major.

Both mother and son were extremely tired, not only physically, but emotionally and mentally, as well. So much had passed between them in such a short period of time. The attorney needed to tell Hajime about her talk with Tsutomu. She suspected that the discussion the Major wanted to have with her in the morning would be just as challenging as the one she just finished.

Giving comfort to her older son tonight, prompted Tokio to remember more details about her past life. During particularly loud, frightening summer storms, when their sons were very young, the small cubs would scamper down the hall and into their parent's room looking for some comfort and shelter from what scared them. Hajime had indulged her then and let them snuggled in on her side of the futon until they fell asleep and he carried them back to their own beds. It warmed her heart, which was now again the heart of a mother, to once again give comfort to a dear child of hers who needed it.

Tokio helped Tsutomu stand, so she could pull back the covers, and have him crawl onto the twin bed. After bringing the blankets back over him gently, she laid down next to him on top of the spread, positioning her arm protectively over him whispering, "I love you too, son," before slipping into a watchful sleep.

To see what happens next go to the Gumi Reloaded story, **A Conversation at a Crossroad. **

Note: To see the photographs of the Fujita (Saitoh) family go to the Saito Hajime Wikipedia page. These images of the Fujita Goro family were taken on November 14, 1897 and published on-line by his descendants on July 15, 2016. Click on each photo to see a description.


End file.
